


Darkest Corner

by agneskamilla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, HP: EWE, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agneskamilla/pseuds/agneskamilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Harry is unable to experience fear anymore, Severus is unwilling to feel it, ever again.</p>
<p>Originally written for 2013 Secret Snarry Swap, Prompt #52 by Roozetter - Removing the Horcrux from Harry resulted in damage to his amygdala. Consequently, he cannot feel fear. This makes him an amazing Auror but a terrible boyfriend/husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkest Corner

**Author's Note:**

> My everlasting gratitude goes to Keyairreem, my superb beta! An enormous thank you to the fest mods for all their help :)

  
  
“How is he?” Hermione whispered to the hunched form of a man at Harry’s bedside. The man’s tall and lean body was unnaturally bent in the far-too-small hospital armchair, which held him currently and probably had been his resting place for many hours.  
  
“He will live,” Severus replied, his tone dejected and rough from the lack of use.  
  
“Has he awakened yet?” Hermione inquired, as she carefully approached the sickbed.  
  
“No. The healers said it would take some more time, with the head injury and the amount of blood he had lost.” Severus leaned forward to adjust the unruly raven locks falling onto Harry’s forehead.  
  
“Will he recover fully?” Hermione hesitantly reached out as if she was afraid of the harm she could inflict.  
  
“Only time will tell, but his medi-wizard is optimistic. And we can always count on his sheer dumb luck, if not on his common sense.” His words should have been more cutting, laced with sarcasm, not this resigned.  
  
“Would you like me to...?” Hermione finally found the courage to touch that pale forearm, to smooth it with trembling hands. It was warm. Thank God, it was still alive.  
  
“No, I will stay till he wakes.” Severus’ tone demanded no objections.  
  
“I should,” she hesitated for a moment, hand still lingering over Harry’s too still form, “tell the others the news. They are in the foyer.”  
  
Severus’ eyes never once moved from the battered face, his hands now caressing Harry’s limp and bruised left hand. Hermione left the ward as quietly as possible.

~

  
“Where is he?” Harry winced as he struggled to get into a sitting position.  
  
“He went home,” Hermione answered with a disapproving frown, but she still helped him to get into a more comfortable position, adjusting the pillows at his back.  
  
“How long have I been out this time?” he asked nonchalantly. Hermione’s frown deepened.  
  
“Almost three days. He hadn’t left your side, not once, he even...”  
  
“I know,” Harry interrupted, a fond smile adorning his face, “he never does.”  
  
“Oh, Harry, it can’t go on like this.” Her words came with an almost practiced ease, she had said this same phrase so many times. “It’s the third time this year, and it’s only...” Harry’s raised hand stopped her diatribe from getting out of hand.  
  
“Please Hermione, I can’t.” The topic was decidedly uncomfortable for Harry; he fidgeted as he looked for an escape route, ready to flee from the room.  
  
Hermione started to pace the small space with an annoyed huff. “You can’t feel fear, I know, but Harry, you still could be a little more cautious. You always take unnecessary risks. If not for the fear for your own life, then for our sanity, or at least for Severus’ sake you should consider...” Hermione swirled around, and grabbed his hand. “Please Harry, Severus is...”  
  
“Severus would not thank you for interfering.” He raised his voice to stop her tirade. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry didn’t let her. “The man is a war hero, not a weak-hearted housewife.” Harry snorted at the mere thought. “He survived two wars; he knows exactly what it means to be an Auror.”  
  
“Yes, but now he has something to lose!” Hermione retreated to her agitated pacing.  
  
“And he won’t lose it. And now,” he went on, effectively nipping Hermione’s effort to interrupt in the bud, “tell me what happened in the three days I was out. Have I made it into the tabloids again?”  
  
Hermione sank down on the bed next to Harry in defeat.  
  
“Cover story, of course. Skeeter had a field day with you. She made an exclusive...”  
  
Harry’s smile was far too smug and victorious for Hermione’s taste.

~

  
“When shall I expect your release?”  
  
It was weird to have this much distance between the two of them. Severus stood a few steps away from Harry’s bed, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable.  
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders. “The healers said three or four days,” he said in plain discontent, “but I’m contemplating escaping.” He flashed a cheeky smile to Severus. “You shall help me; after all, you are the best with cunning plans and all. Actually, we should leave right now, so we...”  
  
“No!” Severus’ abrupt cry surprised the both of them. Harry’s eyes widened with a question, but Severus didn’t let him formulate it. “I can’t do this anymore.”  
  
“Wha... What?” Harry struggled for uncooperative words.  
  
“I find it intolerable to be subjected to your unpredictable, or should I say predictably reckless, behaviour and its consequences anymore.” Severus braced his shoulders, his eyes hardening into the meanest diamonds. “Therefore I intend to play no conspiratorial role in your premature departure from medical treatment.”  
  
“Oh come on, Severus, you can’t be serious...” Harry teased, but was soon halted by Snape.  
  
“I assure you, that I am _deathly_ serious, Mr. Potter. If you leave this institute in spite of your healers’ instructions, then it will be your decision. I would advise you against doing so if I perceived any chance for you to take that advice into consideration. As it is not the case, I shall return to my laboratory. My professional obligations suffered a significant delay due to your latest... escapade.” Severus turned on his heel, ready to depart.  
  
“Wait!” Harry cried out. “What is your problem? I don’t understand.”  
  
“Of that, Mr. Potter, I am absolutely sure.” Severus’ voice left only chill in its wake. And not the good kind of chill, either. “We may speak upon your return home.”  
  
“Severus, please...” Harry tried in vain to stop the man.  
  
With billowing robes Snape strode out of the room, leaving an astonished Harry behind. The dunderheads posing as Auror-cadets were gathering outside of their hero’s room, constantly gossiping in their usual, dim-witted manner.  
  
“...and the boggart simply had exploded into his face, and then dissolved into thin air, after he had barged through it!”  
  
Severus growled in anger, and the whelps jumped out of his way. He sped up his pace to avoid their insipid comments, albeit he wasn’t able to _not_ hear one last bit of questionable wisdom.  
  
“He sure as hell must be fearless, if he puts up with old Snape.”

~

  
“I’m home.”  
  
“Yes, I can see that. As I’m not mentally challenged, I don’t need you to state the obvious.” Severus’ words were like a slap in the face for Harry, who expected a somewhat warmer welcome, not a Severus who is in full git-mode, and is avoiding his gaze.  
  
“Er, yes. So, they gave me a clean bill of health before I left.” And it _was_ a real struggle for Harry to wait that out. “No quitting prematurely,” he added with a mischievous grin, but Severus remained unnaturally stiff.  
  
“Are you restored to your full health again, then?” The whole situation was awkward and surreal. Severus was as distant and cold as possible; his forced politeness made Harry shiver.  
  
“Er, yes.”  
  
Severus acknowledged the statement with a nod.  
  
“In this case, I have a potion experiment which needs my undivided attention, so I will stay in my Hogwarts laboratory for an undefined amount of time, hopefully without any _further_ disturbance.” At this point he gave a disapproving glare to Harry, which was a relief only because he had been looking through Harry during his whole speech.  
  
“But I just arrived! I thought we could talk, or spend some time together or...”  
  
“I have some pressing matters to attend to.” Severus tried to brush him off, but Harry didn’t let him.  
  
“That’s bullshit! I don’t know what your problem is, but you are punishing me for something that is not my fault! It is hardly fair!”  
  
“Fair, you say?” For the first time since Harry had woken up in the hospital Severus seemed to lose his cold facade. “And how is that fair when you mindlessly charge into any mess in a hundred-mile radius, and you expect others to clean up the ruins?”  
  
“You know damn well that I cannot change how I am!” Harry exploded.  
  
“Nobody forces you to work as an Auror in your predicament!” a seething Severus yelled back.  
  
“It’s my job, and I like it, and I’m damn good at it, as well!”  
  
In a blink of an eye Severus’ mask was back. “This discussion is pointless,” he declared coldly. “We _will_ have a talk, after I’m finished with the project, be assured.” Severus’ voice held a very unpleasant promise.  
  
“And when that will be?” Harry had to make a conscious effort not to shout.  
  
“Soon enough.” With his cryptic reply hanging in the air, Severus left Harry standing in their living room all alone.

~

  
Severus had been gone for six days, and Harry was getting desperate. Snape had been unapproachable ever since he left, his Floo closed, owls repelled, wards impermeable, so Harry stayed alone with his thoughts. It didn’t really help matters, that when he sought out their company, Hermione wore her most compassionate expression, and her eyes misted up at one point, while Ron mumbled some comforting words about ‘Never fear, it will be alright.’ As if!  
  
The last straw was Kingsley's demanding he take a two-week sick leave to recuperate, and the stubborn bastard didn’t give in, in spite of Harry’s reassurances that thank you very much, but he was perfectly _alright_!  
  
That experience ended in an empty bottle of firewhisky, a living room razed to the ground and a hell of a hangover.  
  
Harry guessed if he had been able to fear losing Severus, than he would have been scared out of his mind by now. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t.  
  
Instead he felt raw and empty; Severus’ absence was a physical ache, like somebody had torn open his chest with a blunt knife, leaving a ragged and pulsing hole behind. The possibility of Severus leaving him for good made him dry-heave, the noises of his laboured breathing echoing in an empty house.  
  
It was like his body was under unbearable pressure from inside and outside, compressing the very life out of him in the form of choked sobs.  
  
He felt like a man crucified, the ravens ripping up his body, feasting on it.  
  
For the first time since the last battle he thought that fear might have been better.

~

  
Severus knelt on the floor in a puddle of his own vomit, the same mess covering his robes and trousers. Beside him on the counter sat his Pensieve, full of a mud-like substance, oozing with the darkest magic.  
  
The _thing_ seemed to be impenetrable and heavy, so dark and revolting, gulping down all the light from its proximity. It was so thick, without a reflection or a single glimmer on its surface, that it seemed impossible to be kept in the stone basin.  
  
It was a token of Severus’ affection, from the darkest corner of his soul.  
  
It was fear, in its purest form, harvested from behind the sealed doors of Severus’ soul, which he had never wanted to open, ever again.  
  
There was his own fear of being discovered by the Dark Lord, of losing his mind, his very sanity, which was the last memento of his dignity. His fear of failing, of disappointing Albus, of being too weak, too late, too little.  
  
His fear of being unable to resist the siren call of the darkness anymore, and being seduced by the ruthless mistress of the dark arts.  
  
There was all the fear he had ever witnessed, too. The fear of those who were killed, maimed, raped in the war, Crucio'd to the edge of sanity, and over. The fear of men who saw their wives bleeding slowly, with their dying bodies filthy and naked. The fear of women begging for the lives of their children.  
  
And finally there was the fear of his own victims. The mind-numbing horror as they wetted themselves and trembled at his feet, their fear of Severus immobilizing them.  
  
All those terrors were floating lazily in the Pensieve, while Severus vomited over his clothing once again.

~

  
When Severus finally got home on the seventh day of his exile, both he and Harry were a mess. They stood a few steps apart in their reinstated living room, absorbing the sight of the other without uttering a single word. Both were tired and unkempt, clothes crumpled; they had purple bags under their eyes, both were pale and seemingly sleep-deprived, but still they couldn’t stop staring at each other, basking in his sight, his mere presence.  
  
The concept of time dissolved around them. After an amount of time Harry took a hesitant step towards Severus, who slightly raised his arms. That was all the invitation Harry needed, as he flew into Severus’ arms to embrace him fiercely as if there was no tomorrow (maybe there wasn’t), making as much contact with the other man’s body as possible, trying to crawl under the other’s skin, to be absorbed into the other’s living, breathing, still _there_ body.  
  
“Are you...”  
  
“I brought...”  
  
They started talking simultaneously, although it wasn’t surprising, as they had already been breathing together, their hearts beating the same rapid pattern.  
  
Harry lifted his face from its hiding place in the crook of Severus’ neck, and gave a nod to his lover to go on.  
  
Severus disentangled himself from Harry’s embrace; Harry let him go extremely reluctantly. Severus fumbled in the pocket of his robe, and pulled out a tiny satchel.  
  
“I brought you something,” he said, as he unfastened the string securing the leather bag’s opening. “I would like you to wear it all the time,” he went on, as he slipped the black stone pendant into his palm, his face contorted for a moment with the contact on his skin. The ornament was made from the blackest black stone Harry had ever seen. “It may assist you with your... emotion-related judgement problem.” Severus lifted the chain with the pendant over Harry’s head, and put it around Harry’s neck.  
  
Harry staggered back from the onslaught of emotions, but two strong arms grabbed him, and held him through it.  
  
The stone flooded his mind with the almost unbearable fear of losing someone he loved and caused him unendurable, suffocating pain, until it settled inside him like a faint light, a tiny flame, always shining in the background, giving guidance in the night.  
  
Severus was still holding him when he finally opened his eyes again.  
  
“Was it... What was it?”  
  
Severus tenderly caressed his cheek before answering. “I can’t give you back your own natural fear, but I can give you this, to... warn you, when you are in need of a warning. In cases of fearful situations, it will give the necessary stimuli for your brain to react accordingly.”  
  
“But it is your... It must have been... Oh, Severus!” Harry’s eyes fogged up with all the emotions.  
  
“Don’t you dare go all sappy on me, Potter! It is a tool to help you with some inconvenience, and was born out of sheer necessity. Not more, not less!” Severus huffed, but Harry only smiled at him.  
  
“This is the most remarkable gift I have ever received...”  
  
“Don’t! Just don’t, Potter!” Severus protested, so Harry showed his appreciation not with his grateful words, but with a kiss, into which he poured all his gratitude and love for the man who gave this priceless gift to him.  
  
Another immeasurable amount of time later, limbs intertwined, heads resting on the other’s, Harry spoke up once again.  
  
“You are... staying, aren’t you?”  
  
“Where else should I go?” Severus answered. “I am at home.”

 

-The End-

 


End file.
